


i wear your heart on my sleeve (it's written on my wrist)

by omnia_sol



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crack, M/M, Pure Crack, Soul Bond, the duckie and the pausenclown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 21:52:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2444441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omnia_sol/pseuds/omnia_sol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for the prompt: "any players from the german nt; the trope where you have the name of your soulmate written on your wrist in the handwriting of your soulmate!"</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>it’s supposed to be a momentous occasion; all those years of wishing, waiting and wondering coming to a head the moment you turn 18 and the name appears on your wrist -- the name of your soulmate. it’s supposed to be poignant and beautiful -- truthfully, the first thought that flashes through manu’s mind is, <i>good lord, his handwriting is atrocious. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	i wear your heart on my sleeve (it's written on my wrist)

**1.**

 

It’s supposed to be a momentous occasion; all those years of wishing, waiting and wondering coming to a head the moment you turn 18 and the name appears on your wrist -- the name of your soulmate. It’s supposed to be poignant and beautiful; Manu remembers Basti’s 18th birthday and how everyone had gathered around him to see whose name would appear on the blond’s wrist, only to start laughing uproariously when the name turns out to be none other than _Lukas Podolski_ (the chorus of “ _I told you so!_ ”s had been deafening). And then there had been Mario's 18th birthday; Manu would never forget the look on his face when the name on his wrist turned out to be Marco Reus, and Mats and André had to talk him out of his Big Gay Freak-Out (which had coincidentally also been his Oh-My-God-My-Best-Friend-Is-My-Soulmate Freak-Out, because Mario is a drama queen and nothing is ever simple with him). So after having gone through these two events Manu knows what he’s in for, and he tries to prepare himself accordingly for the revelation of his soulmate’s name by taking a few cleansing breaths and adopting a meditative yoga pose in the minutes leading up to his 18th birthday.

The exact time of his birth comes and goes on his bedside clock, and Manu feels an unbidden thrill of excitement run down his spine. He doesn't feel any different, but he knows that his wrist is now forever marked with the name of his soulmate.

Years from now, when Thomas asks him about his reaction to seeing his name appear on his wrist, Manu will wax eloquent about _the great sense of calm that stole over me_ and _I felt so peaceful seeing your name there_ , et. cetera, et. cetera, et. cetera.

Truthfully, the first thought that flashes through Manu’s mind is, _Good Lord, his handwriting is atrocious._

 

(To be fair, he's not wrong.)

 

**2.**

 

“Who the fuck is Thomas Müller?” Mario demands, practically doing a nervous jig around the kitchen table where they’re all gathered, taking turns inspecting Manu’s wrist. “Does anyone know a Thomas Müller?!”

"Babe, calm down," Marco soothes, his hands resting on his boyfriend's hips as if he's afraid that Mario's about to go charging out onto the streets of Munich to single-handedly hunt down Manu's soulmate.

“We could always look him up on Facebook,” Fips replies, ever the pragmatic one as he sits on one of the unfathomably ugly regulation armchairs that all university dorms seem to be equipped with.

“Already on it,” Bastian declares, fingers flying over his laptop keys at a swiftness that very nearly equals the speed of light.

“No, no, _no_! You can’t do that!” Mario cries. Marco has taken to rubbing soothing circles against his boyfriend’s back, but even that doesn’t seem to change the fact that Mario is one notch away from having an apoplectic fit. “That’s cheating! And it’s so unromantic; Manu’s first conversation with his soulmate can’t be on _Facebook chat!_ ”

"What's wrong with Facebook chat?" Fips asks innocently. "It's a lot better than Myspace, let me tell you that."

"My God, let's not talk about Myspace," Lukas pleads. "I think there are still photos of me up there from when I went through my scene phase."

"Yes, and I still loved you during that scene phase didn't I?" Basti replies calmly, still focused intently on his laptop screen as he filters through the _Thomas Müller_ s that are on Facebook (it's not exactly a rare name).

"You are missing the _point_!" Mario protests, and Marco shoots a pointed look at Basti. "Could you please stop giving my boyfriend mini-heart attacks?" he begs. "And I have to admit I agree with Mario. Facebook isn't exactly the epitome of romance."

Lukas rolls his eyes dramatically, and Marco thinks it's a damn miracle they don't fall out of his head. “What, and you think it’s better if Manu goes to hipster coffee shops and reads in dark corners until his soulmate finds him? Or should he get caught in rainstorms and wait for his soulmate to rescue him and kiss him under the umbrella?”

“I am not doing either of those things,” Manu protests, but he is promptly cut off by Basti exclaiming, “I found him! Or at least I think I did, and he even goes to this university!”

Mass pandemonium quickly descends in the kitchen as everyone -- even Fips, maturity be damned -- descend on Basti to try and get a good look at his laptop screen. Everyone except Manu, that is.

“He’s cute,” Mario says critically, examining the boy’s profile picture the same way one would examine a piece of meat at the butcher shop. “In a dorky, adorable kind of way. Does his profile say anything?”

“He liked the Bayern Munich Facebook page!” Basti crows, grinning as if the entire matter is settled (and to be fair, it is for him. Thomas Müller is a top bloke as far as Basti’s concerned, all other characteristics be damned).

“Manu, don’t you want to come and see him?” Fips asks, looking to where Manu is still standing at the kitchen counter. And Manu doesn’t really know how to respond, because no matter how ridiculous and over-the-top Mario can be, Manu agrees that of all the ways he could meet his soulmate, Facebook is not his preferred means of communication. (But at least it's better than Grindr -- not that Manu judges Cristiano or Lionel for meeting that way, but it's just not the type of 'how I met your father' story that he's looking forward to telling his (potential, adoptive) children.)

“I’ll pass,” Manu replies evasively, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sure we’ll meet soon enough anyway.”

His friends let out a chorus of _awww_ ’s, and Manu colors violently. _Five-year-olds, the lot of them_ , he mutters internally as he storms out of the kitchen. _It’s like they're children!_

 

He doesn't know this yet, but Thomas Müller will fit right in.

 

**3.**

 

As it turns out, they do end up meeting in a coffee shop.

(Damn Lukas Podolski.)

Manu takes comfort in the fact that at least they meet in the campus Starbucks and not at the artsy hipster cafe down the road that plays the same Mumford album on repeat. And at least it’s not Grindr.

But it's still a little embarrassing, mostly because they only end up meeting that day because Manu is one of those people -- the people with the ridiculously complicated Starbucks orders that baristas loathe with a burning passion. In fact, his order is so complicated that Manu’s come to expect them to get it wrong, so not for the first (or second, or third time) he takes a sip of the coffee he's just ordered and immediately scrunches his face in displeasure.

“Sorry,” he says to the man behind the register, who looks as if he’d rather be literally anywhere else but at Starbucks during the end-of-class rush hour. “I think you got my order wrong.”

The cashier -- his name tag reads _Mats_ \-- has facial hair that wouldn’t look out of place on one of the three Musketeers, and dark shadows under his eyes that make him look like an artsy, tortured soul instead of a broke college student. Mats arches a brow at him as if to say _well, what did you expect after ordering what you did, hmm?_ What he actually says is, “Sorry about that. Go down to the end of the counter and I’ll tell Mülli to make you a new one.”

"Thanks," Manu replies. Huh, he thinks. _Mülli...weird name. Must be short for something._

The barrister -- Mülli, or whatever his name actually is -- is exactly the type of person he'd expect to see working at a Starbucks; he's tall and lanky and has a mess of wild, curly brown hair on his head -- all he's missing are the wide-frame hipster glasses, even if Manu thinks he looks rather lovely even without them.

“Hey," he greets, jolting Manu out of his thoughts. He's smiling with an easy-going brightness that almost blinds him. "What was your order again?"

“Uh, I, it's a..." _Smooth._ “I ordered a quad non-fat upside down caramel macchiato with two pumps of chocolate and extra foam. Please.”

The man stares at him for a full five seconds, jaw hanging slightly agape.

“Holy crap,” he says finally.

“What?” Manu replies defensively.

“Nothing,” the man replies, all wide-eyed innocence. “It’s just that that is possibly the most obnoxious Starbucks order I’ve ever heard in my entire life."

“It is not obnoxious!” Manu protests, flushing.

“Oh it totally is,” the barrister replies good-naturedly, a teasing smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. “Everything about it is obnoxious, right down to upside down bit. Can you even taste the difference if I layer it the other way around?"

“Okay, listen here--” (Manu squints at the boy’s nametag) “--Thomas. _Yes_ , I can taste the difference if you layer the flavors differently and _no_ , there is nothing obnoxious about my order! So if you could please--”

Wait.

_Wait._

Thomas?

Mülli. _Müller._ Thomas Müller.

_THOMAS MÜLLER?!_

 

Manu swears he feels his soul leave his body.

"Oh, _fuck_."

 

**4.**

Thomas stares at him with a bemused expression, head tilted to one side as if he’s actually wondering whether or not the man in front of him has gone insane. “Uh, sorry...?"

Manu hardly hears him speak. He's staring unashamedly at Thomas now, studying him in a new light: the curve of his jaw; the bright blue-green of his eyes; the lock of hair that sticks straight up in rebellious gravity-defiance. He knows he has the rest of his life to commit these details to memory, but he drinks it all in now because Thomas Müller -- his _soulmate_ \-- is standing right in front of him.

Okay, he's standing right in front of him clearly thinking Manu's gone insane, but it still counts.

"Are you...are you alright?" Thomas asks timidly, in the sort of tone one uses when dealing with the clearly mentally deranged. "I'm sorry for making fun of your drink order, and it'd be great if you didn't mention it to my manager because I already had that incident last week with the mermaid and the exploding chocolate syrup and--"

Wordlessly, Manu holds up his wrist.

Thomas stops mid-sentence. Manu watches his eyes widen to the size of moons.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Thomas says.

_Well, this is off to a good start,_ Manu thinks.

 

**5.**

 

“So you’re Manuel Neuer, huh.”

The two of them are walking through the college grounds, because Thomas is promptly given the day off once his manager realizes he's met his soulmate right there in the middle of his Starbucks shift. Thomas is talking a mile a minute and Manu is doing most (all) of the listening (barring a few _hmm _s and _uh-huh_ s), which Manu doesn't mind because he's 100% certain he will mess things up if he ever speaks again in his entire life. He keeps stealing glances at Thomas as they walk and at one point he has to stop himself from squealing internally because he realizes that the boy has _dimples_ , and Manu's always been a sucker for boys with dimples.__

__"What was that?" Thomas chirps._ _

__"Hmm?"_ _

__"You made a weird noise, kind of like a cross between a dying duck and a sad whale," Thomas replies thoughtfully, keeping a completely straight face._ _

__Manu feels all the blood rush to his head, and he's rather impressed by the fact that he doesn't promptly pass out due to sheer embarrassment. "What does a sad whale sound like anyways?" he huffs, and then he immediately regrets that question because Thomas is just the sort of person to--_ _

"Probably something like 'ww _wwaaauuGGHH'--mpff!"_

" _We. are. in. public!_ " Manu hisses, clapping his hand over Thomas' mouth and dragging him off to a bench behind the bushes. 

"Stop whisper-yelling at me," Thomas whisper-yells, ignoring the strange glances they're getting as he wiggles out of Manu's grasp. "You're the one that asked for a demonstration!" 

"I wasn't _asking_ \--" Manu cuts himself off mid-sentence, running a hand across his face. He swears he can feel the hairs on his head greying, but his annoyance evaporates as he speaks because they're sitting across from each other now, and Thomas' eyes are so crystal clear and beautiful that Manu doesn't know how he's ever going to stay mad at him during their inevitable arguments. "You are so weird," he grumbles finally. 

__Thomas grins widely, and Manu thinks Thomas could make flowers grow with that smile. "I know. But I bet you're weird too, or else we wouldn't be soulmates."_ _

__And really, Manu can't argue with that._ _

__

__**6.** _ _

__

Falling in love is not what Manu expects it to be. It seems to happen all at once -- one moment he's a perfectly normal, average human being and in the next, he realizes he's been waking up next to Thomas Müller for the past four weeks, and he's the happiest he's ever been in his entire life. It's ridiculous how quickly they've fallen into a domestic routine: Manu cooks and Thomas does the dishes (because Thomas should never, ever be allowed to cook, not after the Great Crepe Fiasco); they go to the farmer's market every Saturday morning (and even the kings of household domesticity Basti and Lukas tease them about _that_ ); and they divide their nights between Manu's and Thomas' dorms (because Manu's is nicer, but Thomas' is closer to classes which means more time to sleep in during the mornings). 

__He doesn't _feel_ different, but he knows he is -- before, he would try to inject a modicum of sanity into the madhouse that was his group of friends, but when Thomas is around he can't help but be caught up in the infectious craziness of it all. It feels strangely right, as if Thomas has helped him become more _himself_ somehow._ _

__(He's not good at this philosophical thinking -- that's more Fips' territory. He's the voice of reason for a...well, reason.)_ _

__Thomas fits into his life so seamlessly that Manu suddenly can't remember a time when he wasn't around, even though he knows logically that he's lived most of his life without Thomas in it. The thought is incredulous to him, especially when he sees Thomas and Javi shout and laugh as they play FIFA together, or when he watches Thomas and Lukas go head-to-head over what movie they're going to watch during the weekly movie night. Case in point --_ _

"I'm telling you, _The Room_ is the best shitty movie that's ever been made; we can't have a shitty movie night without it!" 

"That's way too old-school; it's all about _Sharknado_ now," Thomas retorts, climbing precariously over Marco, Mario, and Basti (who are cramped on the battered, tiny sofa) in order to get to the DVD player. 

__"Watch the chip bowl!" Fips yells, just in time to watch Thomas knock the chip bowl off the table. He lets out a long-suffering sigh as Basti laughs and jostles Fips' shoulder, teasing, "Come on Fips, it wouldn't be a movie night if someone didn't spill something. What was our record again?"_ _

__"Two and a half days," Manu says wistfully, cleaning up after his boyfriend with a certain air of affectionate resignation. "We went two and a half days before spilling something and then Marco knocked over a glass of red wine."_ _

__"It's the university's fault for giving us white carpets!" the blond retorts, as Mario strokes his hair comfortingly (he's the only one who's allowed to do so without fear of certain death). "Who the hell thought white carpets in a student dorm were a good idea?"_ _

They end up watching both films (with Lukas defending the cinematic mastery of _The Room_ and Thomas arguing for the intellectual supremacy of _Sharknado_ ( _"it's a social commentary!"_ ) They fall into bed at three in the morning, and even if Manu's head is spinning from the insanity of The Room and Sharknado in one night, he can't think of a single thing to complain about when Thomas sighs in contentment and throws himself down next to him. 

__Except..._ _

__"You didn't turn the bathroom light off."_ _

__"Seriously?!" Thomas sighs, throwing the duvet over his head and burrowing under the blankets._ _

__"Seriously. It's on. I can see it through the crack at the bottom of the door," Manu deadpans._ _

__"Oh my God. You're killing me."_ _

__"Fine, fine, I'll get it," Manu retorts, trying to hide his grin and failing._ _

__Thomas hums out a happy sound. "I love you," he says, his reply muffled from underneath all the covers._ _

"Yeah, and I--" and then he catches himself, because he's always sworn that he wouldn't say _I love you_ to anyone unless actually means it -- and then he grins. "Yeah. I love you too." 

__"Good. Now go turn off the light."_ _

"God _damnit_ , Thomas." 

__

__**end.** _ _

__

__**+1  
(Bonus)** _ _

__

__"Thomas?"_ _

__"Yes?"_ _

__"There's something I've been wondering about."_ _

__"Oh?"_ _

__“The day we met. You made fun of me for having a ridiculous Starbucks order, and then you asked me not to report you to your manager because you were already in trouble over an incident involving a mermaid and exploding chocolate syrup. I need an explanation.”_ _

__“Oh God. So you know how the logo of Starbucks is a mermaid?”_ _

__“Oh dear.”_ _

__“I thought it would be good marketing if someone stood in front of the store dressed like a mermaid --”_ _

__“-- and by ‘someone’, you mean yourself?”_ _

__“Of course, who else would be stupid enough to do that? And I had a bottle of chocolate syrup because hey, everyone loves chocolate and --”_ _

__“--Please, no. I’m sorry I ever asked.”_ _

__“Hey, I looked good in that mermaid costume. I think I still have the seashell bra lying around somewhere.”_ _

__“God help us all.”_ _

__"Not even God can help you now. You know that, right?"_ _

__"Yeah. But I still love you."_ _

__"Good. I love you too."_ _

**Author's Note:**

> this is a silly little thing I wrote for the footy ficathon over on livejournal (which you can check out [here](http://thesilverwitch.livejournal.com/31896.html) for more prompts/fills). I thought it was too silly to even post on ao3, but a few people asked me to put it here so I obliged! thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed ♡


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